Descended Demise
by Purely Peppermint
Summary: When Emily's only grandmother leaves behind a little box as a parting gift to her grandaughter she could have never suspected the darkness that lay inside...
1. Uncertain Mishaps

**Word from Fanfic Writer:**

I do not own any of the story nor characters from Hellraiser, I did however write this fanfic entirely on my own and do hope you all enjoy it. Please be kind, this is my first work on this site and I hope you all enjoy it. I plan to put up more chapters in this one if it gets popular reviews. I'm not too educated in the deep information of Hellraiser so forgive me if I do not pull everything off just right. Enjoy!

Chapter One: Uncertain Mishaps

As the lonely breeze of a summer's day collided with rash swells of the Pacific San Francisco was left to it's own evening demise of perpetual storms and rain. Small boats and vessels came forth to the bay as tide swept low on the horizon. With the low howl of the torrent and billow of ship horns came distant chiming of church bells, their toll a mournful lament to the loss of an elderly soul.

Indeed it was the perfect day for a funeral, the darkening skies overhead and rain none too far off. One could almost feel the bitterness and sorrow within the air, almost touch it as if it were a playful mist in the breeze. Oh yes…it was the perfect day for a funeral…

An abrupt car alarm took the young woman from her daze, eyes gazing back over to the deceased cargo being lifted carefully into the hearse. What a pity it was…to lose a grandmother she hardly knew. If only Emily had been a bit older, perhaps then she would have been able to visit her grandmother a bit more often then just in summer days.

Shaking her head the girl reprimanded herself, there was nothing she could do now to fix old ends. The woman she had only known by letters and secret phone calls was gone and with her demise all she had left in her name was a little intricate box. Emily kept it close in her grasp, it was the only present the old woman had ever given to her. The last time they had met before this…

Being she was one of the few relatives who had shown up for the event Emily was allowed to ride in one of the first vehicles to leave, taking due care with the little box the whole time. Her grandmother was to be buried at an old family lot, one which Emily figured she too would find as home someday.

"I know those greedy estate men will come for just about everything I own and have... right down to the wedding band on my finger here…but I also know that you're a good girl…not like your family. I'll let you have this little box…you see, it was your grandfather's…he loved to travel. It was meant to be a music box…but you can only ever hear the tune if you find out how to open it…I've never been so clever to do such a thing…but perhaps you'll be able to. Oh…how I've always wanted to hear the tune…I bet it's the most wonderful lullaby in the world…"

The words of the old woman rang through Emily's head even as dirt was tilled over her grave. Out of all her grandmother had owned she knew the little keepsake was something of top priority to her…and the brunette knew she was close to solving it…if only the woman had stayed around long enough for her granddaughter to finish.

"You keep holding onto that thing as if it were going to be stolen from you" a voice rang out. Emily jerked her head to glance at he who had been watching her movements and let out a sigh.

"I know it doesn't mean much to you, Mark, but this is the only thing my grandmother left me." the young lady retorted.

"No need to get upset with me, I'm only the driver." the man took a step back, realizing how easily his friend could be hurt at the time.

"And I thank you for taking me, but I'm a bit far from wanting to hear the snide remarks of my roommate"

The blond sir tried to hold back his comments, seeing as how they were standing right over the old lady's grave. Letting a hand push back tousled hair he turned away and began heading back over to the car.

"I'll take that as a hint you need some alone time. Just call me when you want to be picked up, I'm heading back to the hotel room for a nap."

Emily was thankful for what kindness he let show as the car sped off and down a hill. She really did need some time alone. Moving her fingers over and over the intricate curves of the box she stared down at the grave with less than little movement. Minutes strolled by to an hour and some before the brunette realized the heavens above had begun to let out their own tears as rain.

"I wanted to stay longer…" she murmured, but turned and walked away. Even if the weather made bad company the hotel was no more than a few blocks down the road. Emily didn't want to wake up her already wearied roommate just for him to make a quick dash down the lane to get her. He'd done enough already.

"Besides, I could use the walk…"

It was with grim surprise that Emily found out how many bars were just down the hill from her grandmother's resting place. Rude, really considering that the cemetery had been there ages before all the new buildings were put up. Moving on she took glances in on the ones with opened doors, noting how cheerful the mood was inside. She was far from that bliss…in fact how could one find any bliss after they'd been to a funeral?

It occurred to her how long she had been standing in one of the doorways when two men kept glancing over at her and talking amongst their buddies. She abruptly picked up her pace and moved along, careful not to spy into the pubs again. The hotel was only a few more blocks away, wasn't it? She'd be glad to get off the streets in the increasingly bad weather…

Only, there was no chance for her to spy the building ahead, her left side heaved against, veering her into the nearby alleyway. She really had no time to scream, not that anyone would have heard her in the torrential wind. It was against the trashcans for her, plummeting onto the grimy surface of blacktop. Fear-filled eyes glancing up at her attackers she found only the four men from the bar she had batted an eye in for too long.

"What are you doing walking the streets alone, sweet-cheeks?" one scoffed, bringing from his waistcoat a dull hand-blade. His friends gathered around, each with a mouth full of chuckles and grins. Emily gapped at them, trying to find what words she could use against them…

"Aww, Paul, I think we found ourselves a mute! What, is the little girl too good to speak with us?" another crooned, the one who had first laid eyes upon her in the doorway. His heel stamped down on Emily's ankle, her scream filling the darkening sky. Immediately another drunken fool swept upon her, palm scouring over her mouth and muffling her cry.

"Look it what the darling has given us, boys? A little box.." the bladed sir spoke up once again

"What the hell do we need a box for?" the one holding down both her head and now hands inquired, looking over to the young woman's palms and spying what the others hand already seen. Emily grimaced and jerked around, knowing all too well what they had found. It was the only thing that could be worth money she had on her.

"Hold her down, ass" One of them remarked, his blurry-eyed gaze wandering up and down her figure. As he came forward, hand moving from her chest and down to the little box Emily could find nothing worse than their fingers inching around the only thing she had gotten from her grandmother.

Blood streamed down the man's hand as Emily bit into his flesh, feeling the deep pungent liquid drip about her tongue and fill her mouth. Just as she had hoped he jerked back, a shout filling his lungs. Before the others moved forward she griped onto the box, jamming it into the head of the one who had made to take it.

But before she could do much more the end of a blade made way into her own skin, tearing into her throat and forcing into her shoulder. She let out a choked cry, falling back and onto the alley floor, writhing in pain. The men looked to their friend for a moment, his dull eyes filling with rain from the skies above.

They can't have it…

Their gaze turned piercingly upon her, their faces contorted with rage.

They can't have it…

Her own blood intertwined with the dirtied ground, the box soaked in the dead man's flesh. The men came forward, their kicks breaking into her body and blades molding her flesh.

The can't have it…

Their unjustified revenge halted and their heavy breaths came to a close. The first man came forward again, smashing his foot upon her wrist and crushing the bones within. He bent down, gripping onto the box and pulling it from her reach. As if by instinct and what little strength she had left within her other hand came to meet with his. She wrapped her fingers around the edges, cutting in to her own skin and tainting the poor box further.

With a gruff snort he made the final pull, the box leaving the dying hands of the girl. But a little click let off and a sound breathed life from the confinements of the trinket. It's melody was faint, but ever so deep and ethereal. Emily would have never thought such a tune existed…her grandmother had been right….it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard…

"Fukin waste if you ask me…" one of the men interrupted the girl's thoughts. "Danny's dead because we wanted to have some fun…fuckin waste…"

"Have your fun then, the bitch isn't dead yet." the man who had pulled the box from her dying hands commented, looking it over as it began to open. "Never seen something like this before…"

"Who gives a rat's ass about some music box" the other replied, moving over to Emily's twitching form. She had lost too much blood, too much life. She was going to die here in an alleyway, the men who had killed her were going to get away with the only thing her grandmother left her…there wasn't a thing she could do.

As the light fell from the brunette's eyes she watched the man hover around her, getting ready to do the final heinous act he could do before her corpse lost all warmth. But something made him jerk up, eyes wide in terror and surprise. Blood began to pour from his lips as he stared down at his abdomen. The shirt he wore was growing red and the sickening quivering of breaking ribs forced him to give off a cry.

Chains…Chains just out the corner of her eye piled from the ground and walls, creeping into the three men's bodies and tearing them limb from limb. They squirmed, screamed and fought at thin air, their body's liquids and entrails falling to the grimy floor. As the last breath formed from Emily's lips a figure moved into view. A leather covered sir with a face as terrifying as none she had seen bent forward and picked up the box from the twitching grip of a hand. He turned to her, depthless eyes staring into her own and tilting a curious head. A voice came next, as deep and rich as the liquid covered ground.

"Hello Emily…" he spoke. "Quite a surprise…"


	2. Hospital Horrors

That distant…eerie little tune…how it played on and on…forever trapped in a moment's breath of time. That single whisper on a lullaby's tongue that vibrated all sound within and around. It simply would not stop…over and over again. Was it in one's mind…? Or…was it somewhere else?

The low hum of machinery and echo of the heart monitor brought resonance back into long since quieted ears. A calm, white room darkened by the shades of night came into full view as dull green eyes awoke to greet it. The place…Emily did not recognize. But of course, why would she be able to? As feeling followed her rouse back into reality the young woman came to realize that a room like this could only be a hospital. She let her head tilt to the right, finding a window pelting over and again with rain. Nothing, but the rain…

"Emily…?"

Her head swiveled once more. It's woozy stare coming to the other side of the room and finding in its grip a familiar face. Shaggy blond hair, depthless brown eyes. There weren't many out there she would rather see than that worried face staring right back at her.

"Hey Mark…" the only words she could make out at the time had her roommate making a hobble to her side, arms filled with soda and snack machine condiments. Apparently he hadn't expected her to awaken so soon.

"Hey there to you too, brat." the young sir replied with less than usual sarcasm. Not a moment was spared in his dropping the food at the end of the bed and pulling up a chair to her side. Scooping up the IV injected arm with care he palmed it and looked Emily up and down. "Heard you had a rough time coming back to the hotel."

"I don't remember anything…" she moaned in return, pushing herself up and against the pillow to gain a better view of what little surroundings she had. It was true….nothing seemed to come to mind prior than awaking just moments ago. The long drive up here…yes. What seemed like an even longer gaze over a closed casket at the funeral…yes. But…

Emily jerked up and rushed her eyes around wildly. The box! Where was the box?! She twisted her body in vain as Mark pushed her back onto her pillow bewildered. Almost pulling the IV from its place in her skin she cupped her hands around Mark's and shook it violently.

"My grandmother's box! Where is it?!" she cried out, the desperation in her eyes seeming to shear right into Mark's very soul. He blinked a couple times, but after a moment's hesitation nodded his head vaguely. Moving away from the patient he picked up something from the nearby end table only to drop it neatly in her upturned hands. Emily seemed to gaze at it in shock before turning her expression to the fields of relief.

"I was so scared they would take it…" she murmured, propping her head back down wearily. Those fingers of hers immediately began their way around the little cube, following the patterns with little hope of stopping. As her friend gazed on for a moment he spoke up again.

"So you remember now who attacked you?" he began, shifting himself in his seat to get a better view of her dazed face. "When you never returned I went looking for you…found you laying there in the alley, curled up with that box gripped right between your palms. Seemed like you had gotten a gash on the head. It was weird that they didn't take anything else from you or-"

Something clicked in Emily's mind as she focused herself back into the conversation. Letting loose the little cube her hands shifted around her throat and shoulders. There wasn't a mark, not even a little bruise to feel. She flexed her hands and found no pain and led her fingers around her head to find a single wrapping of bandage to cover up a small head wound. Pressing on the center of the padding let her know a real cut was there, it certainly did throb.

"What's wrong? Is your head hurting again? I could call the nurse in and see if we can't get you some pain killers around here." Mark's voice entered her thoughts and the young lady shook her head in reply. Emily had grown confused…was it all a dream that had surfaced in only a few hours? She thought she had been close to death, but instead…it seemed they were only keeping her in for monitoring.

"Mark, how long have I been here?" she muttered, letting her hands press against the bandages once more. The man thought for a moment, growing silent as the wind tampered with the window screen. Finally he spoke up again.

"It's had to been…four hours at the most…since I found you. The doctors said not to expect you to wake up tonight. Said it'd be best to observe you and your head wound for a day or so, make sure everything's alright up there and all."

Pushing aside the undeniable sense that not all was right Emily gave a smile. She handed over the box to Mark, a sign that her attention was both turned to him and he could put it down for her.

"So poor Mark's been up all night with little old me, huh? It's not like him to miss all that beauty sleep" she taunted, a pathetic attempt to lighten up such a dreary mood. It seemed to work though, the blonde's cheesy grin popping up like burnt toast.

"Well, if I had known you'd have such a problem navigating down a stretch of road I would have just stayed at the cemetery. Who knew you were so coordinately challenged." Mark countered just as quickly. In moments the two were at each other's throats with insults and the like, hammering away the minutes until the clock shown two in the morning.

Emily was the first to notice this, her eyes lingering on his as they grew dreary and distant by the second. He was getting tired…and she couldn't help, but feel distantly responsible for his bothersome night. Then again, how was she to know she'd get mugged in that very alleyway.

"You'd better head back to the hotel, Mark. I know you're tired and it's stupid to stay here with me when there's a nice bed waiting for you back at the room." the young woman put in, ending the witty humor with a solemn remark. By his expression she could tell he knew she was right, but really it seemed like he wasn't going to leave so easily.

"I'm fine right here, I have a chair and everything. It's already so late anyways, why leave when you're checking out in the morning? We could go back to the hotel together, pack up, go by the cemetery and hit the nearest buffet we can find after." He replied. Shaking her head, Emily was as stubborn as always.

"It'd have been a waste of all that money to get two rooms then, I'd like one of them to at least be used. And I could use some rest too, your snoring would most likely keep me up the rest of the night. Come on, Mark…I don't want you driving tomorrow when you're tired."

About to retort, Mark stated nothing more on the matter. He stood up and put the chair back in its place before over-exaggerating a bow to her and heading out the door. All seemed quiet once more in the little cubical that was Emily's temporary bedroom. She let her gaze wander over to the rain tapping against the window and sighed.

All that had occurred…it couldn't have really been some kind of drastic nightmare, it seemed too real. The cuts in her hands as she had wrestled for the box, the blade of the knife in her flesh. She had dreams before of getting hurt…but none where she actually felt pain. Then again, if…no bodies were found of her attackers it simply couldn't be anything else. And what of the man that had come for her grandmother's little trinket? Just as she had released her last breath?

On that whim the young lady turned to face the music box, eyes gazing onto it's perfect texture with indifference. It seemed to be fine…no sign of chipping from pavement or blood from so much torment…As her eyes finally closed Emily took one last gaze at the cube before confirming to herself it had simply been a dream.

A rhythm…a beat…a song, a tune…something seemed to press against her ears and call the brunette back from her sleep. Just what was so persistent in bringing her forth from the world of dreams? Just what…was…

Eyes blinking open Emily gazed over at that which seemed to press her from slumber and found the little box. It's intricate weaving designs and patterns…seemed…different now. The young woman sat up in bed and cuffed her face for a moment in a yawn. She shifted pale green eyes to the clock, finding only an hour to have gone by since Mark's departure.

Groaning, Emily fell back and stared at the ceiling. Was it the tune that had woke her up? It seemed familiar now…like it wasn't the first time she heard it. Could she have really listened to it before in that 'dream' of hers? Rolling onto her side and leaning to take the trinket…Emily realized it to no longer be a box.

"What…?" turning it around and again in her hands the woman found it now to be a pillar of sorts…like the thing had shifted itself on its own. What sort of music box did that? Letting her fingers rub against the corners she was startled by a loud creak just outside her room.

Jerking her head sideways along came her hands and the cube fell from her grip to rattle upon the floor. The tune stopped; Emily knew for certain she had broken it. Heaving herself out of bed and pressing warm feet against chilly linoleum the young lady moved over and picked up the trifle from it's landing place.

Her attention was yet again twisted towards the door, that distracting creak once more. It took her a moment to decide whether to go check it out and another moment to leave the box on the end table, but she did. Padding along to the hallway she peeked outside her room and found nothing, but darkened lights and dead halls.

"Hello?" was all she mustered.

No reply.

"Excuse me, is anyone there?" she tried again.

Nothing.

It seemed that what she heard had been a mistake, trickery in the wind and storm just outside…only… when Emily heard the creak again she knew it couldn't be coming anywhere save down the hall. It took a lot of pressing that little voice into the back of her mind once more to bring forth the courage to check it out. Even then she wasn't satisfied with such a foolish decision.

The floor seemed much colder out here as Emily moved into the open corridor. That tune forever playing in her mind to keep her company, warning her that she should come back and go to sleep once again. Pushing all that too into the back of her head the brunette pressed on, hearing the creak just around the corner.

Doors, so very many doors on either side. They seemed too near to one another to be actual patient rooms. They couldn't all be closets, so what lingered within them? That sound once more, her eyes straining to see what made it occur and break into her thoughts.

She began to hum the melody of the box, it's rhythm and sound playing over and again in her quaint little mind. The pits of Emily's stomach seemed to give way and the hair upon her neck stood on end. Everything curious seemed to push her forward, everything logical warned to go back. The sound once more and with it spying the reason it came to be. A single door that swayed back and forth on it's hinges. She wanted it closed for every reasonable idea…but it seemed like an urge now. A stretch of the mind that had to be satisfied then and there.

A desire which needed to be fulfilled.

Her walk turned into a brisk jog, then a run. It was as if she'd never reach that door…that creaking sway that left her weary and anxious. She wanted to go back to her room, she wanted to go to bed. But that door wouldn't let her do it… It must be closed tight and never opened again.

She reached it, fingers gripping around it's sides and halting that heinous cry of metal. Taking in a breath she stared down at the floor and let herself be consumed with victory. Until that lurch in her stomach gave hold once again and she turned to look within. Oh, how she wished she had not…how she wished she had never left her room, her bed, her sleep.

The smell of rotting flesh hit her nose and she fell back with a cry. Contorting limbs and writhing pieces of flesh let themselves be known as she stared at what the closet held within. A leg trembled all on its own as a piece of string held it inches from the ground. Eyes hanging on the sides of cheeks rolled back and forth, each trying to home in on Emily's trembling form. A hand twitched in a puddle of deep red liquid, bone sticking out from its wrist. The rest was seemingly too unreal to even glance at.

There was no way for the young woman to get up as fast as she so willed. Her hands scrambled against the cold, hard surface of the floor while her fingers gripped onto the door handle to pull herself up. It simply wasn't enough for her to do to get away from that which lay just inches from her..

Jerking to her feet she turned to race away from the nightmare that lay in this hall, back to her safe room in her safe bed where Mark would find her in the morning. But she stopped, widened eyes gazing over the strange creature that seemed to lurk just in her path. It's body was warped in it's own flesh, it's face torn back with tiny hooks and pins. Eyeless holes gapped into her very soul and the creature let off a shrill scream that jolted down Emily's spine.

The woman turned, running straight past the very door she had tried so hard to close. An elevator…stairs…anything to get down by and away from this place. Something slippery on the floor skimmed over her feet and she came crashing down once more. A shriek spilled from her lips and she slammed against the hard, white wall.

For a moment the poor thing lay there, eyes staring down at the pool of blood she had fallen into. A droplet hit her face from overhead and she turned to look upon the remains of those who had attacked her from before. Their mouths seemed to cry out silent words that none could hear while they hung forever in chains and binds. Emily screamed again, pressing herself upon the wall as if to go right through it.

It was not long before that creature she had seen before came around the corner, it's unseeing gaze piercing her every tremble. She moved to her feet and turned to run from this horror. Long heavy arms bound in cool leather halted the brunette's escape, pulling her close and twirling her around to face the hanging bodies. With all her cries and sobs it was nothing, but a waste of breath in trying to break the hold this being had on her.

For little than no reason Emily twisted her head up to look at her latest attacker, finding the man of before. His face was filled with nails, each right through his flesh and buried deep into his skull. A chalky…cold, and expressionless mask of skin that held no pity or understanding to her fear. He stared down at her, two deep black eyes finding every move she made as futile and useless as she herself knew them to be.

In one swift palming of her chin she was forced to gaze up at the writhing figures overhead, their tongues rattling around their lips and blood dripping from endless wounds. The woman choked back what she knew would be dry heaves, grabbing onto his hands and pulling against them with all her might. He tightened his grip, squeezing into the flesh of her face with one hand and her shoulder with the other.

"How do you like my artwork, Emily? Does it suit your tastes?" the man inquired with pleasure. He gazed down at her before returning to the bodies. "Does it… inspire justice for the occasion? Are you satisfied with such a perfect demise for your aggressors?"

The poor girl let out a wail and closed her eyes as best she could. Noticing this, the nailed sire scoffed and his hands let go. She toppled to the floor, moving not an inch lest it give him reason to bring her up once more.

"Emily…Emily…Emily… your actions are quite pathetic. Did you truly believe you would be released from the contract all others must pay when opening the box?" He stared down at her with nothing more than an unsettling expression on cold lips. The brunette tried to understand what he meant, but she was far from any rational thought.

"I don't know…what you're talking about!" she cried out, having the ability to push herself upright and stare back into those deadlight eyes. An amused grin spread out between those thick needles of his and he laughed a deep fearful tone.

"Why, child…you play me. But it is you who've become the toy." that eerie smile faded away to one of grim satisfaction. Emily couldn't stand to look, to think that it's gaze was deep into her very mind and soul. But she had to, there was no choice in the matter and her green orbs dived back within his.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she stated again, power behind that tongue of hers. That shrill cry filled the air once more and Emily glanced back at the creature which had only come closer in it's effort to reach her. She couldn't tell which she should fear more, the man or the beast. One gaze at the man told her that he held authority over the monster, it backed away with a single stare from his blackened eyes.

"You opened the box, Emily. But circumstances were not as they should be. A person as yourself…should have never been able to open it, but you did not work alone, did you?" A shriek from a nearby body turned Emily's attention skyward and she saw the man who had tried to take the box as she lay dying…that was right…it had clicked at the very last moment…and the music had begun.

"-Three souls you handed over to me that fateful night. And an extra body I rid the world of. But you lay dying in my path…and you still assisted in opening the box. You've become obligated to me, Emily. Your very life returned by my own hands." the sire of nails went on. Emily shook her head dazedly, her eyes filling with tears by the moment.

"Please leave me alone.." she wailed, crumbling to her elbows and sobbing into the floor.

"It is not so easy to be rid of me. And just as so it will not be an easy task to rid yourself of the debt you've fallen into. I look forward to showing you the arts of my world, Emily. Your payment for my charity shall begin quite soon."

The ground from under them seemed to flow into nothingness, the blood and bodies being carried away by unseen aid. Emily let herself fall away within it, screaming an unheard scream and crying out to no one, but the darkness surrounding her.


	3. Unsound Resolve

* * *

**Chapter Three: Unsound Resolve**

Chapter Note: In Mark's POV

The ride back to the hotel seemed to be so very long, colored in by the tainted hue of silence. As Emily stared out the passenger window blankly Mark could not help, but wonder what had occurred to make his roommate so…solemn. Had she not slept well after his leave? Usually the young man would have made a joke on this…but…the brunette just didn't seem like herself.

When he had walked back into the room that morning it seemed as if she'd been gazing out the window for hours. There had been traces of circles under her eyes, like she'd not gone to sleep when he left. Wasn't that the exact reason why she made him leave last night? To get sleep? With a sigh he looked over to her again before giving a slight elbow to her arm.

"Hey, you never did tell me what the doctor said while I was bringing the car around." he attempted to make conversation.

"He said to take it easy" she cut right through his efforts.

Foiled in trying to get her out of this gloom she was in Mark focused back on driving. As the rain finally subsided and a few rays of ethereal light broke through they pulled into the hotel and he found her doing nothing more than continuing her unfazed watch out the window. Did she even know they were here?

"Emily…ah…you go ahead and stay here for the moment. I'll start bringing down things" the blond offered before moving into the twelve story complex. Making his way into the elevator and pressing for the eighth floor he confirmed to himself that something was certainly wrong. His roommate, even when in a foul mood always offered to assist him. Had that bump on the head knocked her out of her own little etiquette complex?

"What the hell am I thinking…?" he grumbled, kicking open the room door and wandering inside. She'd just lost her own grandmother, of course she wouldn't be oh so chipper oh so soon. Mark felt pretty foolish now, almost selfish that he'd thought a little low of his roommate in her time of grief. Taking note to somehow make up for his hidden insecurity the sir stuffed what clothes and things he found around the bed and drawers into a suitcase and dragged it out and downstairs.

"Emily, can you hit the trunk button for me…Emily?" looking down and into the passenger seat Mark found nothing, but empty space. He dropped the leather box and wandered into the hotel only to spy her at the check out booth. Watching a smile play upon her lips he saw her talk to the lady at the desk before turning to the door and spotting him. Now that…was quite the change of moods in his opinion. He waved in return as she held up a hand.

"I thought since you were getting our stuff I'd check us out" she nodded kindly.

"Uh..huh…" was all he seemed able to get out at the moment, walking on out next to her with more than just a little curiosity toying his mind. Getting back into the car he noticed she had gotten out that music…cube…thing and was rolling it around in her palms. That thing was starting to bother him, and he wasn't sure if it was just for the mere fact that she'd never let it go.

"You're going to wear the damn thing out if you keep messing with it like that" he grinned, masking that real tone of irritation. Looking over to her roommate she smiled kindly and set it down in her purse.

"Sorry Mark…I just…it gives me some comfort for what's happened.." she replied. Instantly that lurch in his stomach brought to attention what the brunette had been through and with it another wave of guilt. The young man straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat.

"Did…you want to go by the cemetery one last time? I'll…stay there and…no?" stopped by the shaking of her head Mark went silent and decided to just…drive. That seemed to be the only reassurance he could give her right now…a change of scenery. Pulling out of the hotel and moving on down the road he thumbed his fingers against the steering wheel absent-mindedly.

It was a while before either found reason to speak, but surprisingly enough first words uttered came from Emily, her eyes glancing just as longingly as ever outside the window.

"Mark…can I tell you something, without you thinking I'm crazy and all?" she commented. That was an interesting way to begin the conversation, but nodding his head and with a simple 'sure' Emily continued. "I think…something happened last night that should of killed me."

Now, this completely took the young man off track and he looked over at the brunette with quite a confused expression before turning it back to the road. What the hell was she talking about, being killed last night.

"Emily, you only got knocked on the head. The doctor said so and your test results said you were fine. There's no way you could have died by that." he replied fervently. The young woman shook her head.

"I'm telling you Mark, something more happened and I remember it-"

"It had to be a dream then, otherwise why would I have found you like that?" he cut in. She turned her head to face his, he was glad for a reason why he couldn't do the same.

"Look, you don't have to believe me, alright? But would you at least hear me out? I'm not saying this just to freak you out" Emily stated gruffly. With a roll of the eyes Mark gave a nod of the head for her to continue and so she did.

"I didn't tell you this before because I thought that it was a dream too…but then something happened after you left the hospital…" she seemed to drift off for a second, her voice warped in emotion. Mark could tell this was really bothering her.

"Emi…you know…you just lost your grandma. I think you're just really stressed…that's all." he reassured her. "Once we're back home and back on campus I'm sure all this will blow over. A couple dreams…that's nothing to get worried about. You act like you've made your way into the depths of hell with all this talk."

"Not yet Mark…not yet…" she mumbled, once more taking her attention to the window.


	4. Homecoming

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C**hapter Four: Homecoming**

Note from Author: My apologies for taking so long in putting this up. I was never quite happy with it and wanted to add on a couple more pages. I'll probably do so in the next few days or so to compensate. All the same however, please do enjoy.

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As the gentle cry of the front door signaled their final destination Emily stared over the apartment with little content. It seemed different to her somehow, this place which she'd called home for months. Trying not to draw Mark's already curious attention the girl as usual plopped down on the couch and declared she'd never move again. 

At least her roommate's sense of humor was still in tact. He let out a snort and continued on to his own room, retiring for a long awaited nap. At least he didn't have to worry about classes tomorrow, with all their detours on the way back home it took two days to get back rather than a few hours. The weekend Emily had looked forward to in peace and recuperation from the funeral was now gone. Laying her head back on the cushion she contemplated a few day's ditch.

After a few minutes and a hearty sigh the woman pulled herself from the comfy fluff that was the couch and moved into her own room. It's violet hues and pastels calmed her instantly and she knew she was back home. Still…that feeling she just couldn't erase from the back of her mind. Diving onto her bed with a triumphant escape of air she closed her eyes and let herself be taken from consciousness.

Of course, the dream world did not admit her for long and Emily awoke to a night raged version of her own sleeping quarters. She sat up wearily, eyes peering around for anything unusual to take place. As of late any naps or moments of slumber were taken over by horrid visions of gore and promised bloodlust. She could no longer find tranquility in the alternate version of reality that was a dream.

"Nine, huh?" she stated quietly. Picking up the old bed stand clock she took no extra energy in setting it back down again. Her fingers brushed through long brunette hair and swept down to her shoulders. For summer…it was pretty cold; or maybe it was just her imagination. Hardly wide awake Emily decided some water would be just the thing to quench her thirst before trying for a full night's sleep.

Heading out of her room and down the hall she tip toed into the kitchen and flipped up the switch. Just her luck…with a flash and a little 'pop' the damned thing decided it wouldn't be working tonight. It seemed like a bother to try and get up on a ladder to put in a new light bulb so Emily vouched she'd do it first thing in the morning. Making her way over to the cupboard she pushed open the door and felt in for a glass.

"Ah!" a sharp pain caused the girl to back out her hand and watch as a drop of blood traced down her finger. She stared at it for a moment before looking into the cabinet herself. Yup, a broken cup sat in the way back corner…she'd have to warn Mark where to hide broken things from her…the dumpster would've worked. Leading her wound to the tip of her tongue Emily whirled around as she heard a faint giggle of a sound behind her.

Nothing

Quite unhappily the young woman turned back and took out the nearest glass she could find. It seemed alright, a bit dirty from being a dish to clean on Mark's turn. She took it over to the faucet and filled it up to the half point. Turning around once again she gave a half glance around the kitchen, bringing the water to her lips.

A deep metallic taste filled her mouth and before she knew it Emily began to gag. Her fingers slipped from their hold and the glass toppled to the ground, smashing into pieces. Blood. It was blood! Coughing, the poor girl let out a cry and jerked around to the sink in an effort to wash out the taste. It really was of no use, that pungent liquid too dripping from faucet and right down the drain.

A horrid and most satisfied laugh filled her ears, one Emily could not bear to hear or she herself would find insanity only moments away. She let out a scream and covered her ears, hoping in any way to make what had just occurred leave her memory. That taste, the sound of blood dropping into the drain, the throbbing in her fingertip that resonated down her arm and into her very soul…

"Emily!! What the hell- ?!" Mark's voice was the first to reach her, then his arms pulling her up from the kitchen floor. She fought them for a moment and without finding any more reason to she let them take her from the maddening room. In seconds she found herself on the couch and Mark kneeling at her side. She sat up, wide-eyed and bewildered.

"Mark! I- It can't be a dream! What I saw wasn't a dream!" she cried out to him, grabbing hold his tee-shirt and jerking at it wildly. Her efforts were all for naught however, she had already gotten his attention from the screams in the kitchen. He pushed her back to sitting on the cushion before speaking to her.

"I don't understand what you're talking about" he tried to explain, the patience in his voice twisted around how tired he was.

"Just now, the faucet ran with blood, there was this horrible laughter and it just wouldn't stop I…I…!!" Shaking her head back and forth wasn't helping the matter and Emily forced herself to stop that fretful shivering that coiled through her arms. She yanked on Mark's shirt once more in an effort to keep him close.

"It was like in the hospital, Mark. I just…I don't know what to do…or why this is happening…" She finished. The young man sat there quietly, his hands wrapped around her trembling wrists. It was apparent that he himself knew not how to handle the situation. After a few moments more he got up and led her to the doorway of the kitchen.

Without so much as a single word he made his way to the faucet and turned it on. Clear, unaltered liquid sprung through the pipe and trickled into the sink. Mark ran his fingers through it for a moment, even so much as tasting some in his hand. He looked down at the broken glass on the floor, what Emily had dropped only moments ago and made his way back to her.

"I'll pick that up tomorrow, okay? You go get some sleep. I think…I'm going to take you to see the school doctor instead of you going to classes." he stated. Emily gaped at him for a moment, then nodded slowly and moved back to her room. Getting to the door she turned to speak down the hall.

"Mark…I'm sorry. It was probably…a dream." she remarked.

"…That's alright. I understand." was all she seemed to get out of him. And with that she moved back into the confinements of her room and closed the door.


	5. Belongings

**Chapter Five: Belongings**

"Do we crave for the very essence that is sin? Do we hunger for the lust of beyond? The very passions of mankind linger in taboo, the very desire of their minds a radiance of discord-"

Listening to the words of the drama student as he acted out his lines, Emily found herself unable to keep her mind on the work set before her. She hesitated with the scissors again, causing another nitch in the fabric she'd been working on. It wasn't cheap fabric either and with a mistake the teacher came to reprimand the distracted young woman.

"I got a note from the school doctor not too long ago.." she began, pulling Emily aside. "So I understand if you're not feeling up for helping with the costumes."

"No, I am Mrs. Harper, I didn't mean to mess-" Emily interrupted.

"-And if you're not going to help with costumes today, I think you should head upstairs to the balcony seats and practice your lines." the woman finished sternly. There really was no use fighting with the professor, she always got her way when it came to the theater. Nodding gravely the brunette gathered her things from the stage and moved to the entrance of the building.

"Mark was right, I should have just stayed home…" she muttered.

"_And then the lady had the audacity to ask me if I felt sad because those muggers didn't kill me!" Emily hissed. Laughing, Mark shut the door to the clinic building behind them and followed his companion over to the car._

"_You know, you should just stay home today. What's __**one **__day going to bother with classes? You just went through a lot this weekend, plus just talking to that doctor about it. Your drama teacher and that English guy will understand."_

"_He's __**French**__, Mark…a French teacher and no, they'll both give me a hard time when I come back. I might as well go, it's not like I have classes again until Thursday. Just drop me off at the theater building, if anything I'll leave if I'm not feeling up for anymore."_

Emily was certainly starting to feel that way, curious glances from the other students catching her attention. She thought she'd avoid that if she just came in and acted alright…but it looked as if she were making it worse. Good thing the campus was big…rumors not worthy to be spread didn't get very far. The last thing she wanted was anyone finding out about the little "hallucinations" she'd been having as the doctor called them.

Sitting a bit to the right of the other students practicing, Emily found it hardly possible to focus on paper and gibberish today. Instead she decided to direct her attention on their words, each one that they spoke…how they moved with their lines and twisted into character. Even for college students a few of them didn't know what they were doing…

There was a great hustle on the stage below and Emily's attention soon paved over to the characters moving along the polished wood. The dancers were on now, each in tune with the other's steps. They weaved like ballerinas…gracefully mimicking hand movements and posture. Each adorned the black dress of night, each kept a red rose to her hair, each…

The room seemed to flutter about in Emily's eyes and dizziness removed her from her feet. She fell back into a chair, one of the many velvet covered seats surrounding her. The theater was spinning around itself, the dancers slowing to a snail's pace. Music that Harper set throughout the room lost all pure intent and crept into eerie resonance. It seemed to grow cooler, frost settling on anything unmoving.

The dancers down below moved on still, but not by their own will as it had been so. Their arms laced with hooks and pins, old blood tainting their beautiful skin. Their feet barely graced the floor, their heads the only part which they had the pleasure to move on their own. No eyes did they admire the world with, their mouths sewn to a close along with them. Here they stood in time, marionettes to an unseen force.

The brunette wanted to let out a scream in fear and surprise, but nothing wished to let loose from her soul. She remained as mute as the girls below, unable to show the words for which she felt right to her bones. What she was allowed to do was turn her eyes, turn her quivering form to that which she so pleased. What of the students nearby? Were they taking eye to this contorted side of nature?

"They cannot see it, Emily. They cannot admire the art which I've placed before you." a voice crooned from the stairwell. Her head twisted to the darkness that was the entrance to the balcony area, awaiting the man she knew who lurked there. "They do not have the opportunity to witness true beauty as you can."

It was true, the others who had made their place to the second floor were as frozen as stone, their conversations, lines, and laughter forever subdued in time. The dancers, Emily, and the man were all that remained. He came forth from the shadows which he so tamed, clothed in black leather as he so admired. His face still marred by pins…so many to even count.

"Instead…they can only become a piece of it…a color…a mold… a texture and mesh. My living portfolio of creations." He paused at a student and her group, removing the blade that hung at his waist and pressing it to the girl's cheek. It carved straight into her skin, a half moon did he so make. Warm, dark liquid spilled from her flesh and putrid steam filled the air as it hit the ice that so covered the rest of her body.

Emily rolled her head away only to stare at the dancers down below, still silent, still strung up with blades and hooks. She couldn't shake the dizziness from her mind, this fog that strung over any clarity she held. The man smiled at his work and moved on to the front row where Emily so clung to. He dipped his head over the side to glimpse at the girls and their movements.

"Ah…so I see you prefer the elegance of the dance…I should have known, Emily." he reflected. "What a perfect performance, is it not? Such quality it has, quite different to what most would have taste for."

"I don't have _taste _for it at all!!" what little hold on herself she had Emily took grip upon and jerked to her feet. The man did not seem to mind, his eyes raising up to look to her now. She wished he wouldn't, those black depths yet again crept into her soul and strangled the life right from it.

"Oh, what a fine spirit you have, Emily. What determination to fight the unknown. But it is wasted, my dear…wasted on petty actions that do you no good." his attention moved to the dancers again and that release from his eyes caused the brunette to nearly topple over. She grasped the rail that separated her from a two-story fall

"It's my soul, I'll do with it and it's will as I so please!" her words etched venom in every syllable, but the ferocity that they so needed to sink in she did not have. The man let out a chuckle, an amused grin crossing those icy lips. His towering form did shatter what confidence she'd mustered and the young woman cowered back into her shell once again.

"My dear…have you not realized it yet?" he advanced, feet cracking the very floor below them. That chilling cry of wood and ice combined, Emily could only stand dumbly in place. "That which lies within your mind and heart…what makes you so humbly you…now belongs to me."

In a single tilt of the head Emily's body fell to the ground, all energy so releasing from her quivering form. She felt so cold, immobile…a puppet in his grip. In that moment the poor woman realized, if he so willed it she'd be dead then and there. But that was not his desire for her, she'd been dead long ago if it was.

"Your efforts to understand do amuse me, Emily." He spoke once more, watching the dancers again. "I can see it deep within those eyes of yours…temptation wills me to cut them right out for my own. Your soul is so willing to learn, yearning to see what only I can show you."

If only the brunette could scream out it was not true, that his words were nothing, but tainted lies dabbled upon an eloquent tongue. However, as much as she'd so like this would not be, no words spilled from her lips. Silent tears paved the way down her cheeks, the only way she could muster out her discontent. His eyes did veer to her again, and he spoke.

"No need to cry, Emily…you shall have your chance to repay me. After all, your situation is quite different than those before your time. I want you to come with me often, my dear…and you need only view the performance which I shall bring."

Just as the icy depths sprung from the shadows so did they hide themselves once again and Emily found herself shivering madly upon the theater floor. Her nails had clenched into her hands, blood pooling at the palms. It didn't take long for a few students to rush to her side and another to call the teacher. But in all this commotion the poor girl lay there, unmoving. In moments Mrs. Harper's middle-aged face was staring down at her own and Emily drew back in surprise.

"Emily! Emily, can you hear me?" she repeated over and again. It didn't take much to utter the word yes, but even when she did the blasted woman wouldn't shut up. Finally and against the professor's wishes Emily sat up and gazed around. Her eyes strained for a view at the girl who's face had been cut. Just as she thought…there was nothing there, but curious eyes and a gossiping mouth.

"I…I'm alright…I just want to go home.." the brunette made out. "I'm sorry…I'm just still bothered by this weekend. I just want to go home." Mrs. Harper's questioning eyes blinked in quaint understanding and she ushered the other students away.

"That's okay, Emily. I'll call security and have them escort you back to your apartment. Let me just-"

"No…no, please don't do that." Emily halted the woman's efforts to help. The last thing she wanted was to give people outside the building a reason to stare. "I'll just call my roommate, he'll give me a ride home. He doesn't have classes today."

Of course, the middle age woman wasn't so content with her student's plan…but Emily would have it no other way. It didn't take much to get a hold of Mark and without much asking he was already in the car and raring to pick her up…but needless to say he did end the phone call with a basic 'I told you so' .

Taking to her feet Emily gave a half glance over the railing and found the stage now dancer free…she felt both relieved…and anxious. Was that even possible? She guessed so. Making her way downstairs and to the entranceway the brunette looked back for a moment and sighed. This couldn't just be a delusion…not something like this.


	6. Forever Waltz Part One

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**Chapter Six: Forever Waltz; Part One**

Note From Author: This chapter has been broken down into two parts, the second part will be put up as **Chapter Seven: Forever Waltz; Part Two.** I did this because already it was four pages of writing and I didn't wish to tire out eyes too quickly. The second part should be just as long if not longer.

Also, on a side note I'd like to thank EmpressAthena for her wonderful review. It assisted me most surely in my writing and when I do get some time I will indeed go back and find those lil' mess ups I missed; I do hope I did a well enough once over to be rid of most of the mistakes in this chapter. Anyways, to all who have read this far please keep reading and leaving reviews, you've no idea how much those things keep me from being lazy and leaving this fanfic as it is now.

Enjoy!

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With the tap of the rain and the howl of the wind Emily lay still in her bed. Her palms reddened from the corners of the puzzle box she'd sat to work at hours ago. In the pain that came with running her hands down it's sides brought refuge and tranquility. She yearned for it so, desiring the little tune that lay just inside. If only…if only she could reach it again…if not once more.

"Why…why won't you play…?" she murmured, allowing tired eyes to close in a moment's rest. Of course, the young woman knew better. She knew what lay hidden in the sea of her unconsciousness. What yearned for her more than her wish to hear the lovely little melody of before. He was there. That man of nails and chains…

Pinhead.

The name rather suited him she would think. Emily knew she'd not get much else of a name out of him if she'd try. He was as tangible to her as the air she breathed. He was there…but always unseen. And always waiting. As the storm once again boiled over outside and lighting struck the earth Emily remembered the words he spoke. The payment she must make to even out her 'debt'.

"His art…I have to view…his art." rolling over and reopening her eyes Emily sat the box down on the end table and decided to think the matter over still. A man of nails came to her in her sleep, bringing a deal to a simple college student. What was it that made such a bargain worth so much to him? She knew just as before if he wanted her dead she'd be dead…so there must be something he'd left out…something she desperately needed to know to stay safe…if there was such a thing left for her.

"And I shall go with him many times…and see the world as he so pleases." with a sigh, the brunette realized how confused and out of her mind she must be. He was real, wasn't he? Just like her attackers… No. She'd never know for sure until she fulfilled this bargain that held her at bay. What if she did go with him, would she get her answers?

"Alright…I have to do this. I must." Pulling herself up and out of bed Emily made it to the door of her room and peered out. Just in view was Mark on the couch, head tilted back in slumber. He'd fallen asleep watching those stupid late night game shows again…she had promised him she'd stay awake one night and watch it with-

Shaking her head, the brunette reminded herself to stay on track. She closed her bedroom door once again and with a gentle click it was locked. Keeping the lights off, she figured if something wanted to make itself known in the room it wouldn't do any good to see it in the first place. If it came for her, it did. Nothing could stop it, especially not her.

"He said…that this all occurred because of that box…" Emily muttered to herself. She moved over to her bedside and pulled the little trinket into her grasp. "I'm doing something wrong…wrong…I…just wanted the song. I wanted to hear the song and that's all. So…"

It became clear to her in moments that Emily needed something more than just a melody to calm her nerves. Sure, it may have been opened once before for that reason, but not fully. That man who attacked her so happened to get his tainted grip on it too. And she doubted he was thinking of listening to some stupid tune.

"I need to want. I need to…desire. Desiring something is the key…and the key to that desire is…" the brunette thought for a moment, contemplating over everything that had occurred. She wanted nothing more than to get out of this predicament. To get back her soul which she had apparently given up so unwillingly. She wanted to do what she had to in order to get it back. She wanted…to see _him_.

Holding close to that terrifying urge Emily began to reconfigure the box, noting once again its intricate details and lovely form as she had done when first acquiring it. Her fingers went through the motions and rounded the corners with ease. And soon enough the room resounded with the melody of the puzzle box. It wouldn't be long now, she figured. That man of nails and pain would soon be on his way.

Only…that very same man she had willed herself to never came. Even as the box toppled from the young lady's hands and reformed itself on the carpet. Instead the room crept further into a dim setting, Emily's eyes could not longer see. The deep pits of her stomach churned and for a moment the brunette wished she'd never touched that puzzle box again.

From the window their came a lurch of color, but not of the lightning Emily was so caring to see. A shadow of a blue came cascading over the glass, as if it itself were a fog of light. The young woman moved slowly towards it, knowing full well what may be waiting just beyond it's dancing allure. She leaned closely in, trying to make out anything outside…if it indeed was still what one would call outside.

Letting out a gasp, she jumped back as a hand meshed itself against the window. It pressed for a few more moments, as if trying to make it's way in before realizing it could not. Finally the writhing thing pulled back a bit and rolled over to show it's palm.

"It…wants me to take hold?" Emily mumbled, coming forward again. Slowly, she unlocked the binds on the latch and opened the window. The poor girl was relieved to find that the piece of flesh did nothing, but remain as still as it had been prior. She looked back once at the dark remains of what was her room before taking the welcoming palm and pulling herself up and out.

As she left the sill behind her feet felt no ground below them, gravity however no longer took hold.. Instead, Emily wavered in the blue fog by the grip of the arm, praying there was a person she could not see that went with it. The piece of flesh and the girl began to sink farther and farther down, moving idly by.

There was a moment in the brunette's mind where she thought they may never touch the ground. And within a breath Emily's fears were made real. The hand which she had tightly bound herself to was no longer there to grip and with a scream she plummeted into the confines of a putrid smelling liquid.

Her eyes, mouth and nose filled with toxic waters as she bobbed up and down through them. All senses lost and the current pulling her through Emily began to swim chokingly in one direction, hoping she wasn't headed towards more open water. The rushing little waves smashed themselves against her, forcing her under again and again.

It seemed like an eternity before her feet met with stone and Emily quickly waded out of the pungent liquid. Falling to her sides and heaving out what had gotten into her lungs the woman had no time to look around for where she'd made it to. The brunette lay still in an effort to regain herself, blinking away the watery substance that pooled around her eyes.

There was a tap on the ground followed again by another. Emily stopped her breathing to listen, then holding back a groan finally rolled over to see. The fog had blown away to reveal mounds of brick and stone, old buildings and walls towering farther up than she could glance at and a strange, meandering shadow moving around them. It's owner gazed about with sliced up eyes and rotting flesh for a body before sniffing down at the dirt surrounding it.

Pushing herself back father and father again the young woman soon realized she'd go right back into the water if she wasn't careful. But for a moment she thought it'd be better than going near that large cat-like creature. Was that some of Pinhead's artwork too?

"He shall not bother you here, child. There is no reason to fear him now." as if he had been called, the man of nails appeared just from the corner of Emily's view. His deadly gaze sunk over the land with little interest, there was not much he could play with here…

Turning his attention to his new guest, the man moved his hand out for Emily to take. As she did so the faint essence of déjà vu took hold, Emily quickly noted his hand was too big to be the one of earlier and in a swift motion the girl was pulled to her feet. There seemed to be a glimmer of amusement in those dull eyes, Emily figured she knew why.

"I came here, just as you asked." she began, moving away by a few inches. "I've come to do what I'm supposed to and earn my soul back".

Pinhead's stare pulled slowly over her as it always had, and yet…Emily still felt herself ever so unsettled with it. To take away that moment of discomfort she looked to the lurching animal nearby, it's vacant stare nothing more terrifying than a late night horror movie. At least, for now.

"Your efforts in valor are quite commendable, Emily" he praised. "I had not expected such actions from you after my earlier visit."

"If you mean the visit at the theatre, you're right." she gripped her hands to halt the trembling. "I was terrified…but that doesn't mean I'd run away from what I have to do."

A deep and resonating laugh surged through Pinhead's body and seemed to shake through the new world Emily had been brought to. Yet again she found herself losing that same confidence she had been applauded for. The realization came to her that this task of winning back her soul would not be so easy.

"How charming it is to find a guest worthy of being left unscathed. It is not often that I allow someone into my world with the honor of only a short visit. Perhaps we should move on, now my dear…I've much to show you."

"Wait." Emily cut it. As Pinhead turned to lead the way his eyes did wander back to her. Keeping her own to the ground she spoke up again. "All…I have to do is just go with you and see what you've done. View your…'artwork'. Then I can leave and I never have to come back here again. Right?"

"I shall not break my vow to you, child…if you do as I say and take study in what I do you shall go free." Pinhead spoke. "But do note that this will only be the first time we meet to nullify your contract. My portfolio is far too intricate to be viewed in only one visit."

"And you promise you won't hurt me if I cooperate?" the girl put in.

"So long as you remain at my side your wellbeing shall be secured.." the man of ivory skin assured her. In a slow and mannerly gesture his hand pulled out once more for her to take. It was as if he'd offered her a partner in the waltz…and quite slowly the young lady placed her palm upon his.


	7. Forever Waltz Part Two

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**Chapter Seven: Forever Walts; Part Two**

That eerie stillness that rushed through the walls and pounded into Emily's mind was almost deafening to the poor girl. It ranged in every stone, every dead piece of earth under them and to anything that dwelled near. This was his playground, the young woman figured. An ethereal wonderland of pain and horror.

As they moved along Pinhead allowed her to glance about these new surroundings. A labyrinth of rock and bone she figured. He said nothing in this moment, perhaps testing her to what she saw in the reaction that spewed forth from pale green eyes. It was hard to let her palm keep still atop his, perfectly balanced…she was reminded of a simple table top…it was certainly cold enough.

But just as the young student's mind had wandered from the fear that surrounded her it pronounced itself in a clear and precise way. There had been a gap between the walls of a turn, just wide enough for someone to look clearly through. And that was just what someone was doing most horrifyingly. It was a boy, his face dangling off the left cheek while damaged eye sockets sunk back into his skull.

"Ah, it would seem we've already made it to a part of my features…" Pinhead announced. His hand made way from Emily's, only to keep her from moving back as she let out a terrified yelp. "His name was once Jonathan…a young scholar not unlike yourself. Such desperate passions he fell for, however…temptation can lead to such inhumane things…and inevitably, to us.."

"H- his face…it's falling off…" Emily muttered. "What did he do to deserve such a fate?"

"A hidden desire to see what happens to people when they are burned by chemicals…a certain victim of his had hold of the puzzle box you yourself did acquire. He opened it…we came." Pinhead explained most simply. It was apparent he did not find much interest in this subject, those eyes of his swaying over the boy. Not even Emily could say if the young man had deserved his fate or not…but she felt a pang of sympathy for one who would go through that for eternity…

"-He is fresh however, his soul has hardly been broken into the pleasures of our world.." the nailed man interrupted Emily's thoughts. As if his hand held an invisible blade he maneuvered it towards the girl's back and she set off. The area where they had been at moments ago must have been an open release from the victims ahead for now the faint screams just around corners only previewed the many lewd scenes to come.

Emily's head was forever jolting from the left to the right, catching glimpses through stone windows of tortuous events. People had been strung up on hooks, only to be pulled back and forth. Strange and twisted creatures lapped at the pooled liquids upon the floor. More than once did Emily let her eyes wander to Pinhead's leather-strewn body to keep from gazing over a decapitated head or writhing limb.

"These stenches…they're unbearable…" the brunette murmured, again did she hold her mouth closed to keep from retching. The farther they moved the slower Pinhead's stride became. It was obvious that she was soon to gaze upon many more scenes as he pleased. Looking in once more upon a window Emily's movement halted, her eyes widening.

"A child…?" as the young woman's stare did make due with a certain room Emily could not help, but find herself astonished with what fell before her gaze. In the corner a helpless infant lay crying, it's eyes staring forward and hands reaching out to the center of the area. There, a man had been barricaded between two steaming pipes, his flesh slowly melting away.

"No! Ruby stay there!! Daddy's coming!" the sir called out. "I promise…Daddy…he's coming…"

Such painful and hoarse tones strung through his body that Emily could not help, but feel her soul being torn in two. Tears had stained his torn body, soot meshing into sweat and skin. An open hand reached out for his beloved Ruby…his little girl…while the other charred black pushing against the pipes that bound him.

"He won't…be able to reach her…" Emily stated numbly. "He won't be able to reach that…that little girl. She'll stay there, crying and he won't be able to go to her."

"It is his punishment. His own, personal hell which he cannot stray from." Her guide responded. That answer she did not like, it made her skin crawl and in an instant Emily swung around in a glare.

"What the hell did that little girl do?! What did she do to deserve watching her father like that for eternity?! Even if he belongs here, she doesn't!! How could you do that?!" Pain crept into Emily and tore through her mind. She wanted ever so much to run to them both and help them, tell them it would be alright and set the two free…but…just looking at Pinhead as he gazed down upon her…she would never have that chance.

"That child is not real, Emily. She is truly not here with her father. But an illusion is, to forever remind that man of his sins. To show him his error of ways. What he shall never have a chance to repent for…"

"And is this your _art _too? Is this something you get a kick out of?!" Emily retorted furiously.

"The is the art of a lesser, someone who has not found much time to play with their palette. But it was amusing to find the inner beauty it unlocked within you, Emily. Such blissful ache it brought to your core…"

Too sickened by his tastes, Emily only gave the child one last glance before moving on. She paid no heed to his word on keeping close, looking around in a simple act to get it over with. But as the young woman moved along a voice in the still air pulsed through her ears and stopped her persistent tracks. Yet another victim she thought, but what would this one hold dear in tortuous events and grief? She listened again for where the voice had come from…and this time found a song in its stead. A chill-filled lullaby that ranged into the furthest depths of one's own heartache.

For a moment Emily looked back to Pinhead, she found him standing only a few paces behind whilst blackened eyes crept into her own. He was watching, awaiting her actions yet again. She couldn't stand for it and moved on. Down a twist in the maze they went, Emily finding that ill-fated song closer and closer still.

Finally, as they reached a fork in this forever numbing tomb the brunette found the source of that voice. There stood a young maiden, she could not have been more than fifteen… Her body was hunched over a stream churning with blood, hands gripping onto a small clay pot. Over and again she pulled that deep red liquid from the little brook, only to rush it over dirty blond hair and let out another part of the tune.

"Ho…red, red Nile river days gone by…lost be thy maiden who kneels down beside…Ho red, red Nile river days gone by…lost be thy maiden who feeds all the lies…"

"…What's wrong with her..?" Emily whispered. She turned again to glance at her guide, but found him a quieted watcher. There was not much she could do, but find out herself. And so Emily moved closer to the girl, green eyes watching for any sudden movement.

"Ho…red, red Nile river days gone by…lost be thy man who takes on a bride…Ho red, red Nile river days gone by…lost be thy man who hangs by his tie…"

The girl continued with her rhapsody, that charming alluring of breath and tongue. Her fingers…now Emily could see that she had held onto the pot so long…they were contorted around the rim.. Placing her own hand forward, Emily set it down and on the girl's shoulder.

"You're song…it's very lovely…" she commented.

There was not a second wasted for that girl to whip around and stare over Emily's paling form. That blonde's eyes…they were so very wide. Strung open by long needles that wound back to her ears. And not only was the blood from the stream…but it stung from her very lips. Her teeth gnashed upon them with every tremble of her form. She tried to swing around to look at her new guest directly, but a body that had not moved position in so long would never allow it. Instead she fell over, revealing many open wounds upon her chest and neck.

"F- Father doesn't like my song…Father doesn't like it at all. That's why I'm always outside. Always outside by the river. Mother taught me this song… Y- yes…Mother always sang to me before she had to be buried. She sang through the dirt. She sang and Father hated it. Father doesn't like my song…Father doesn't like it at all. That's why-"

Emily almost fell back as the girl pushed herself forward against the hard stone. She kept moving inch by inch over to the brunette, her eyes filling with tears. Those gapping lips never stopped moving, even as they rasped for another breath of damp air.

"Father doesn't like it at all! He doesn't! Please don't leave me alone here with him, he keeps screaming at me because of Mother! It's her fault! She won't stop singing through the dirt and-- a- and…Mother used to teach me them before she was buried. That's why I'm always outside…b- by the river…"

There was nothing Emily could do, but go back. Go back as the girl screamed out for her and squirmed freakishly upon the cold floor. She began to throw her hands up and down until finally they came too close to the stoned earth and the pot broke apart. Now she became frantic, taking up the pieces and jabbing them into her hands.

"Please come back! Father will never forgive me now! Please come back and listen to me! Why won't you listen anymore?! Why do you want to go away?!" the girl continued with her wails, pleas and self-mutilation. Hacking away at any part of her skin not already tainted with some open wound.

"Her name was once Ella. She had many talents before she came here. A prominent one was the gift of song…but every lovely rose has such heinous thorns…and so the buds fell upon them and smote themselves. This child was of her own demise. One of my more…self inflicting pieces." Pinhead had come to reclaim his voice and told the young singer's story.

Emily stood there dimly, watching as the girl slowly crept back to the stream and dipped her hands into the sullied water. Was all this truly real? This pain that people endured on earth and came for an eternity here? Souls that were bound in a grief-filled contract by desire.

Gripping her palms the brunette turned and made her way down the right hand fork of the maze. She now gazed around in disbelief, her mind too confused to put thought into words. This place, these people…they would be here forever? It was a terrifying fate to behold. And here, within these hateful structures she was only inches away from that very same demise.

Until now, an eerie glow had resonated from the halls and architecture, giving any who passed a chance to view what lay ahead. But…as Emily moved forward that ethereal light had slowly begun to die away, leaving her with little to guide the twisting path. Still, she moved on, pressing bare hands against crumbling stone and sticky walls. Yet there, amidst the darkness and decay a lone creature dwelled.

It's bulging pupils caught sight of the strange young woman who had wandered into its realm and in instinctive rage it began to rumble the vocals of a beast. Emily stopped, eyes widening in fear and surprise. She squinted to find any hope of what was making such a noise, but could only find darkness as a companion.

"Wh- What is that…" she questioned.

There was no reply.

"What is that in front of us?" the brunette tried again. She turned to see what was keeping Pinhead from answering her questions. He wasn't there.

_So long as you remain at my side your wellbeing shall be secured.._

"Oh…god. No…" Emily quivered in her wake, every inch of her screaming out to turn and run. The rumble was growing louder, heavy clawed steps inching towards her… Finally the girl uprooted herself from her stead and backed away. She did slowly at first, then faster and faster still. Then in one quick jerk of the body she had turned around. At that time the creature let off a terrible hiss and a cry before giving chase.

There was no use screaming out for assistance, a waste of breath to let out a wail in fear. Those clawed steps raked against the stony floor and only brought the undeniable truth to Emily that she was in danger. It seemed as if new passages had formed within the ones she had already gone through, there'd be no way she could make it back to where she was before.

Moment changes in course and a second's turn through a new hall gave the girl a small distance between herself and what followed. It's jaws had begun to snap when it got near enough to breathe in her scent. The rancid smell of it's rotting flesh seemed to overwhelm her already disadvantaged senses.

And just as the creature she'd dare not look upon reared back in a leap onto its prey Emily let herself fall into the room on the left. Body hitting against the icy surface of the labyrinth she rolled away from the door and sat up. Frantically those eyes of hers searched for what she knew would come through that opening and tear her apart. But…

"He shall not come here, Emily. His job of bringing you back to me is complete." that voice again. Anger gutted through her stomach and placed itself deep within the confinements of the young woman's mind. Emily let out a shriek as she grabbed hold of jagged stones from the floor and began to toss them wildly at Pinhead. Only, there was no man of nails to be targeted.

"Did you feel threatened, Emily? Did you not enjoy that moment of adrenaline seeping through your veins?" instead of a single place, that voice marred every corner and shadow surrounding the room. Her heart ran through every shiver and quake Emily made. How she despised this man so…

"I want to go home! I don't want to be here anymore!" she cried out defiantly. That laughter of deep pleasure and amusement filled her ears and a reply she was given soon after.

"Had your fill for this visit, have you? Fair enough…there is but one task you must complete. And then you are free to leave this world behind and return safely home."

"What? Tell me and I'll do it! I don't want to be here anymore!" her voice had grown weak in the screams she'd let out prior, the light in her eyes a dull performance of what she'd once held within them.

"It's quite simple, child…all you must do for me…is leave your mark in a canvas I've brought forth…one hardly touched by this world." that eloquent tongue replied. From the surface of the labyrinth floor came a faint clink of metal. Emily turned her gaze and found a simple carving knife in place.

"W- Wha…?" the brunette stuttered. In her confusion and terror, the intentions of this instrument were brought forth as the floor gave way just nearby. A gapping hole sheltered itself amongst the rubble and rock, chains shooting down to meet something within. There was a scream and soon those very same metal links were pulling back up and into the ceiling, a young man being dragged along with them.

His petrified screech only halted as he glanced upon Emily, perhaps his thoughts turned to a rescue…? She could only stare at his pitiful form…those hooks and chains running through his shoulders and back up to the darkened heavens above.

"Take up the knife, Emily…and place it deeply into that boy's flesh. Paint into him what beauty I've shown you.."

"N…No…he's already in pain…" The young woman's frail voice spoke back. "Why, why would you want to harm him further?"

"I shall not be the one to carve into his flesh…you will, Emily." Pinhead's resolve was unbreakable and in moments Emily was stumbling over to the blade. The young man's eyes grew wide once and immediately that chilling scream soared through the air.

"What the hell are you doing?! No! Get away from me!" he retorted, the boy's courage had been flattened away by his fear for death…if he was indeed still alive.

Emily's fingers closed around the wooden hold of the knife and she stood up again. The girl didn't…she didn't wish to do this…she didn't want to hurt anybody. Why did Pinhead have this as her final task for the first visit? Why couldn't she just go back home?!

"That is right, child…now go to him. Go to him and inflict the beauty of pleasure against his unscathed form. You are the artist now…and you must do what an artist does best."

"This isn't what an artist does! An artist…an artist…" Emily was lost for words, she moved forward in lurches, every step she took was not her own. It was as if someone had slowed down time…the young man's wails stretching into howls. Her eyes searched out any possible means to escape what she had to do…and all she found were strange human-like figures watching her movements.

"P- Please don't make me do this!" she cried, the blade now weaving her path to the boy. He was just feet away now, Emily knew his terror far surpassed her own.

"You must, Emily. It is part of our bargain for your soul. Do as I say now…and you may return home safely." the nailed man soothed. But as much as Emily wanted to fall for such words…she knew she could not.

"N- No…No!!" Immediately the girl began to writhe back and forth, jerking herself around in an effort to keep from moving any closer to the young man. She was fighting against herself…and something else Pinhead seemed to grip hold of within. Those three human figures watched on…analyzing her determination, courage…and faults.

"Do it, Emily. Do this and you may return home." that deep and horrid voice pounded right into her skull and the will she had to do no harm was being wrenched away from her grasp. Still, Emily held strong, shaking her head and jerking about. Suddenly, the blade turned its passion from the young man.

And seized the flesh that was Emily's left shoulder. The girl let out a screech as pain flooded her senses and blood spat against the floor. The knife began to cut down, wrenching towards her collarbone. With what strength she had the young woman pulled it out, only to find that it made due with her abdomen. She had begun to mutilate herself.

"Emily, cut into the boy and this visit will end. You'll be free to go home." Pinhead's voice was louder now, harsher in his efforts to force the poor girl into doing what he so pleased. But Emily would not, the blade loosely twisting over her neck and cutting in.

"I can't…please…" the brunette gasped, losing control of her fingers and simply letting the knife swipe over what it so wished. It was becoming harder to move now, that deep red liquid pooling around her trembling form. Visions of that fateful day in the alley merged over her vision. She was being killed again, killed for walking down a simple road…

From the shadows the man of nails came, his marred face furrowed in rage and command. He crossed the room in little interest for those who had appeared, taking up Emily's blooded hands and slowly dragging her to young man. The blade still writhed in her fingers, Pinhead stilled them in one glance.

"You have been punished for your defiance, Emily. Your resolve to disobey will be quelled." That chilling wisp of air and voice seeped into Emily's entire conscious. She could not fight it, could not run from it, she could not defy it. Pinhead was absolute…it made no difference what she did…had done, or would do. "You belong to me now, child. And whatever hope or dream you have that clashes…is slowly slipping away through your fingers…"

Pulling her hands up to the young man's face, Pinhead's icy grip easily brought Emily to leave a deep gash into his cheek. A slit of blood dripped down from it and met home upon Emily's own palms, instantly the knife slipping from her hold. With a clatter of the metal onto stone the room vanished away, leaving a black tomb of air.

"We will meet again quite soon, Emily…" Pinhead backed away from the girl. "Until then, be welcomed by the wrath of those who you thought…_truly _cared for you. And know the power I have come to gather over your very soul."


	8. Longful Loss

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**Chapter Eight: Longful Loss**

Writer's Notes: Sorry it took me so long to put this chapter up, everyone. I had written three pages, but never got around to finishing it off til this morning. As some of you may have guessed from the earlier chapter things are not looking good for Emily and in fact are just about to get worse.

I do hope you enjoy, this chapter will be in Mark's POV.

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Mark was not sure exactly what had woken him from such a peaceful slumber…the television humming away with his favorite late night shows…the dim setting that only exemplified that which was a perfect night's rest. But here he was, eyes glancing about in eerie discomfort that something was not right. Shifting his weight from an arm which had gone to sleep the young man let out a yawn and stood up.

Emily had not wanted to talk much after he'd picked her up from the theatre building…which was ordinarily understandable. If anything bad happened she'd always clam up and keep to herself. Not exactly something that was good for her…but she'd already had her psych evaluation that very same day…why pry into her business again?

Taking note of the lightning that flared up every so often from the window Mark realized that storm the weather forecasters had predicted finally had come in. Emily really liked that sort of thing too…she'd always scold him if he let her sleep through one. And while the young man knew she needed the sleep…especially tonight…he'd rather not hear it from her in the morning. Besides, he really had the urge to get a peek in on her to make sure she was doing okay.

Leaving the safety and comfort that was the couch the Mark swatted a few strands of blond hair from his face and looked over to the clock. Twelve minutes past two…huh. Even if Emily would be ticked at him for not keeping distance when she was in a foul mood she'd get chipper really quickly over the thunder storm.

Moving along down the hallway and past his own room the young sir halted gently at Emily's. Taking a moment to think over what exactly he'd say or do if she was awake and still sulking Mark could have sworn he did hear a faint cry coming from the other side. Again, he stood silently by…listening…until again that remorse of quieted tears filled his ears.

"Hey…hey Emily…? You awake in there?" he called out. There was no reply from his obviously discontented roommate. Maybe she was having a nightmare? He'd definitely wake her up from that.

"Emily…I'm comin' in okay? So don't be pissed if your not decent and I come bounding in, because I warned you and all that…" hands upon the door knob, there still came no reply. Could she really be in that deep a sleep that she wouldn't have caught any of that? Mark really had no idea…

As the thunder outside pounded through the young man's ears and echoed the gentle beatings of his heart he turned the handle, pushed the door and moved inside. But…what his eyes did come across was far from that which he'd ever predict.

Whilst the lamp knocked to the ground flickered over and again Mark's eyes spotted a small writhing figure at the side of the bed. At first, the young man thought Emily must have fallen off and onto the floor, knocking down the lamp as she fell. But that was far from the truth. He could see rich red droplets falling from her skin and onto the carpet, long etched marks burrowed into her flesh. She was hunched over so terribly it looked as if she were hiding within herself, feeble twitches alerted Mark that she was still alive.

"E- Emi! What the hell is going on-" Rushing to her aid the young man halted mid-step. The reflective hue of something silver had caught his eye, it was poised ever so carefully in the grips of her right hand. He studied for a moment, then came forward again.

"Emi…Emi listen to me now…it's Mark, okay? What do you have there in your hand?" Not that he expected a reply, Mark moved carefully over to her side. His suspicions confirmed, Mark could now see clearly that it was a knife, it's sheen cut off by droplets of blood. Still, Emily did not move and even more the young man could not see her face.

He needed to get it away from her, those cuts and bleeding wounds crying out from under her torn pajamas. Slowly Mark began to kneel down, keeping an eye out for any movement from his roommate. She did nothing. His hand moved forward gently, keeping a certain boundary from Emily's trembling form. At last, his hand began to curl around the knife…

A scream let loose from the young woman and sent Mark stumbling back. Emily jerked up from her position, slashing the knife back and forth in mid-air. Her face was contorted with fear, pain and horror. What exactly was she trying to attack?!

"Emily! Emily wake up!" He shouted, moving again to his feet. But Emily did not stop her assaults, more than once swiping all too close to herself or to Mark. Her breathing was all too quick, her movements erratic and confused. Finally, Mark could take no more of this. He lunged forward, catching the knife's dull side and holding on tightly.

For a moment, the poor girl continued in her struggles with the unknown, fighting off demons, ghosts or whatever the hell she thought she was. Then in one rattle of a breath she stopped. Her glassy eyes settled back over to those Mark knew best, her maniac strength she'd harnessed for no more than a minute creeping away.

"M- Mark…"From Emily's lips did those words echo forth and Mark thought he had heard no sweeter of things. _His _Emily was back, he hoped.

"Emi…what were you doing…? What's going on?" his voice was tinged with worry and fear, but a sympathetic coating reached around and tugged at Emily's senses. She looked around dizzily and her glance fell to the knife. Immediately she let out a choking cry, dropping the thing as if it were scalding her.

"N- noo…" she sobbed, her legs giving way. Mark led her to the floor slowly before kicking away that silver blade. Had she been trying to protect herself with it…? Or…

"Emi…I need to you to look at me…and to tell me what's happened." the blond stated, pulling her chin up to look him in the eye. "It's very important I know what has happened."

For a moment his roommate looked at him as if she herself did not know. Her eyes darted side to side, as if she was trying to re-read the past of this incident. Finally, Emily brought her sliced up hands to cup over his and spoke. That voice of hers weary and pleading.

"That man…that man made me do it…" she remarked softly, her voice almost at a dull whisper. By now tears had filled those pale green orbs of hers, they collided with the cuts upon her cheeks and only added to the terrifying situation as it were. "He made me do it…the ones with nails and chains."

The pits of Mark's stomach dropped out as his suspicions were confirmed. Emily had done this to herself. She had been the one to bring the blade to her flesh and cut in. But why? Why would she do such a thing to herself? She'd never been like this before… Looking up again, he realized she was still talking to him.

"That man…that man with all the horrors and pain he brings…he made me do this to myself. I had no choice, I couldn't control myself and I didn't want to hurt anyone else." Emily looked to Mark again, her eyes going wide in a sudden realization.

"Mark, I didn't _want _to do this to myself, don't you understand? I didn't want for any of this!" she was pleading with him, just she knew what was forming in his mind. Of course she knew, any sane person would think such things…

The young man had to get her out of this room, away from that which held deep within her mind. He pulled her up and steadied his grip around her waist, making his way back to the hall and living room. Emily let out a yelp at the sudden movements, but said nothing of or about them. She trembled…all she could do was tremble.

Leading her over to the couch where he himself had slumbered not ten minutes before Mark made sure there was nothing too serious she could grab hold of to harm herself with and moved over to the phone. There was nothing else he could do, nothing else that could be done. And as those fingers ticked over the numbers and the operator came on the phone Emily sat there like a lifeless doll, watching Mark's attempt to get her the help she so desperately needed.

"Hello, um…I need to contact the police, they're has been an emergency." he announced through the hollow cylinder of plastic. A voice replied, asking what kind of emergency it was and who exactly was involved. To stay on the phone until help arrived, but…Mark didn't want to do any of that. He simply pushed the useless thing onto the floor as the woman's voice asked again and again if he was still there.

He looked over to Emily again and found her staring numbly at the apartment floor, she showed no signs of hate, sorrow or gratitude. Nothing. And that was the worst she could do of all. Mark wanted to yell at her, scream out and ask why in the world would she do such a thing…He wanted to run over to her and hold her, make everything better in a single hug and say everything was going to be okay…when he knew it would not. But the young man couldn't.

Instead, Mark flopped onto the floor and leaned back against the recliner. His dull eyes stared up at the ceiling and listened as those terrifying sirens drawled into the silence of the night, making their way to the apartment complex. Making their way to the apartment door…making their way…to Emily.


	9. Blissful Blur

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**Chapter Nine: Blissful Blur**

Writer's Notes: I seem to feel I say this alot, but my apologies for taking so long to get this chapter up if any of your are still reading my work, hehe. I've been pretty darn sick as of late and busy with the holidays. Fortunately I got my bum down into a chair and started writing and here we are. This chapter is short...but I felt it was a major turning point, especially for our tragic heroine. I won't say how...even though I wish to...but perhaps some of you know what I mean. Anyways, please enjoy and leave reviews if you can, the more I find in my inbox the more spurred I am to write.

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It was hard…so terribly hard to stay conscious and aware of all that was going on around Emily. Her body ached with every step she was forced to take out the front door, a malicious voice seemed to echo in her ears like the thunder slowly rolling off into the distance. How she wished…she could just close her eyes, make it all disappear. But only scenes of pain and conflict slumbered there.

Above the murmur of onlookers and the drawling voices of uniformed men Emily could hear Mark's outspoken retorts and shouts. He wasn't allowed to go with them, wherever it was they were going to take her first. And in a way…she was glad. Glad that he wouldn't be allowed to see her like this anymore, this wretched shell of a woman she'd become.

Sturdy hands took gentle grips around her arms and escorted her through the many bystanders and into the police car. They looked on with wild glances and gossiping mouths, Emily's frail body covered over in a thick blue blanket. Nobody could see what had been done to her…but soon enough…soon enough they'd get word.

And at that moment on, as she was told to lower her head when getting in things moved forward in a blur. From the now strange streets flying past the car window right down to the questioning at the station. Back into another vehicle she went only to arrive at the hospital to treat her wounds. People came and people went, shifting faces and words Emily no longer took meaning to.

They watched her in all she did, right down to the ladies' room. Her vacant eyes moved solemnly over the many bandages spread across her form. Angry and upset parents came forward to cry out and ask why she had done this to herself, what she thought they had done to make their daughter so selfish.

But it wasn't their fault. It wasn't even hers. It was…his.

And now the court proceedings came, people in proper attire lining up to state what was wrong with her and why she did it. How school must be overwhelming, how being the only child in college must have done it. Hectic classes, bad friends, low self esteem… Her only grandmother dying.

That was the one they truly liked. It made perfect sense…The poor thing, crushed by the death of her beloved grandparent. And even worse, mugged on the same day! How horrifying it must have been for the young student, trying to make her own in such a harsh world.

With the mallet down and the case dismissed Emily was escorted away from the room, not a word uttered from her own two lips. _They _had done what was right for her. _They _had done what they knew was best. And back behind all the other chairs, behind the many relatives and close friends stood Mark. Dull green eyes met over with his…and the door closed behind her forevermore.

Yet again was she being escorted away, into a car and far off from any place she had ever been. Still the Judge's verdict rang in her ears…she was unfit for society, to be shipped off to some medical center for "assistance" and "emotional recuperation."

They'd planned to lock her away. In a place she'd never get free from. And at that moment…as she was being taken to her new room, the place she'd be calling home for months, maybe longer…she heard those menacing words as clear as if they had been spoken by the attendants on either side.

"Be welcomed by the wrath of those who you thought…_truly _cared for you"

In an instant her screams bellowed through the halls and scarred windows and doors. Emily toppled to the ground, fingers writhing to strangle thin air and slamming against icy hard floor. The two attendants took no moment's hesitation and were upon her, strong hands taking up her legs and arms.

She squirmed and jerked, cried out and kicked. But nothing could prevent herself from being tied down with long heavy straps onto her new bed. Then came the nurse, a long and slender needle palmed all too kindly. Watching that thick and powerful acting liquid coarse from the syringe and into her veins Emily could only shriek until the sedative kicked in.

The two men and their colleague looked at her one last time with sad and mock-understanding faces before closing the door behind them, leaving her alone. Staring up at the ceiling was the only thing Emily could do, the sun outside the windows behind her slowly fading away.

Darkness came quietly and coldly, playing at her mind and imagination. She was scared…oh, how terrifying this place was. And as sleep began to prowl around her eyes and kiss away her heavy breaths a chilling light began to sweep over the walls and ceiling. It was coming from the windows, she knew. But the straps would not allow her to move, wouldn't allow her to see.

The panes creaked and moaned, the glass falling away. Her body was as good as gone to her as Emily jerked her head around in vain. A gust of stagnant wind overtook the entire room, she knew the wall had fallen out behind her. That light had grown brighter still, the chatter of teeth nearby.

Soon the creature drew near, a sight Emily wished she could take out from her mind as it looked her over with a tilted head. She wanted to scream for help, cry out that these were the things that had harmed her. But nothing leapt from her lungs save hushed sobs.

It moved to the end of the bed and unlocked the wheels, Emily's eyes grew wide in terror. She writhed in place again, letting out soundless wails before two slender hands made their way around her cheekbones. Looking up, the brunette found no one, but a woman in chalk-white skin. Her head held not a lock of hair, her eyes dancing in dead amusement. The woman's neck was torn open, a deep and gaping hole held in place by wires…and looking up to the creature that was her companion the bed gave a lurch and moved back.

They were moving farther and farther from the room, pressing diligently into the chilling light and terrifying winds. Away from the past, away from what she knew…away from escape. And she knew who awaited her here…knew who these things were and what they had come for.

And a familiar, eloquent voice sounded through the girl's mind and spread terror into every point of her trembling form.

"Welcome back, Emily. We've much to show you."


	10. Descended Demise

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**Chapter Ten: Descended Demise**

Writer's Notes: Here we are everyone, chapter ten of my Hellraiser Fanfic! It's almost to the end, so hang out for a while longer if you can! I know I take long putting up chapters...but lately I've been just too darn happy to pull out a chapter for such a dark fanfic. But, getting my wisdom teeth pulled out put me back in the mood so here we are! Please do enjoy, and yet again I ask to leave lovely reviews full of praise and plenty o' critique! The keep me going you know!

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"-And, who is this man again, Emily?" 

"I don't know who he is…"

"You don't?"

"No, I don't. I don't know who he is… Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Because, Emily, you say these marks on you were inflicted by him. That's why I-"

"They'll go away soon. And there won't be any more."

"Why is that, Emily?"

"Because. Because I've decided to stop disobeying him."

The room was too dark for her liking. How she despised dark places so. Dim, emerald eyes watched the corners each. If she didn't, they'd betray her. She was sure of it.

"What does he ask you to do, Emily?" that woman spoke once again. Spoke once again…? She never shut up. Those questions of hers….ever day, every day. She hated them too. They always tried to mess up what she knew was true. They always had a deeper purpose. Deeper meaning.

"He asks me to take part in forming his creations. And when I don't want to, I'm punished. Severely. Why are you asking me this again?" the brunette's fingers strummed against the bars on the window and just as quickly came to a halt. She looked over to the blonde-dyed bimbo in disdain.

"Because, I need to know."

Of course, the answer Emily was always given when she asked too many times. Which meant…it had been at least five. Flopping down onto the chair, Emily decided the table was interesting enough to stare at than her psych-evaluator. A moment's pause ticked by as scribbles and marks filled up that notepad of hers.

"His feathers just keep falling off…" the quiet broke, Emily had spoken. From behind those thick spectacles the older woman looked up.

"Pardon?" she remarked.

"His feathers, they just keep falling off…and he collects more and pins them right back onto himself. Each feather, a fallen soul. But no matter how many feathers he collects, he'll never be able to lift himself back into grace. A forever descending demise."

The woman's cool stare continued. So did Emily's words.

"But he doesn't mind. He finds this limbo…perfect. Exactly the hellish Heaven he so desires. But…where does this place me…I don't know. I'm not like him…and I'm not one of these feathers…such fragile things." her fingers swayed up and danced along the tabletop. Long, thin marks of lashings pressed so carefully just inches from the wrists.

"You've said…you will stop disobeying him. How do you feel about that? Are you happy? Or do you feel-" the evaluator halted in her words, those emerald eyes had made contact with her. A cold, fleeting expression.

"Remorse? Anger? _Hate_? There are only so many words we can use to explain such feelings…but in the end none of them matter. Because in the end you still think I'm out of my mind. And I still think you're a bitc-"

"-That will be enough for today, Emily" the woman had scooped up what little things she'd brought into the room and headed towards the door. The brunette watched her every step with little to no interest. Yet another mock-attempt, yet another failed evaluation.

With that the usual two men came hovering in over the girl's receding form. As they grabbed at her bony wrists she did no more than flinch, being escorted out of the room was a routine she knew all too well. From there it was back to her cell, being she had been a good girl as of late they did no more than lay her down in bed.

As the springs picked at her spine and the pillow sunk around her head she stared plainly up to the ceiling, waiting for him to come. The sun, she knew was already paying respects to the night. Shadows hiding in every corner began to creep up the walls and tease the last rays of light.

She hated the darkness, despised it so. He always waited for her here.


	11. Reverent Return

**_Reverent Return_**

* * *

The velvety royal hue of the curtains, the lacey black array of tapestries and cloths. It all hung so delicately in the air and brought forth the tinge of exquisite malice. With honeyed fingers hanging mid-air and tender, pursed lips breathing in the woman stilled her soul and looked to the floor. Gently, so very gently her hips swayed to the right…and just as carefully left. Finally, with a steady roll of the head she tilted upward, sighed…and opened those darkened green eyes.

On the stage of the Wellspring Theatre Emily's movements matched with the slow beat of the music, the twists and shimmies of the dancers to the right and left. Her body was not simply her own here, but part of the whole that made the performance so real. As they turned, she turned. When they leapt into the air and fell to the polished floor she did with as much flourish and grace as any other in her group

The music was a hushed lullaby to which there was to be no end… A blissful state of melancholy, a bittersweet delight. So beautiful… so tainted… so familiar. Stealing a moment's pause Emily glanced down and into the audience, their stares a breathtaking awe. And then they were gone, melted away as she swiveled back in with the other performers, forming a circle in the mass of jingling coins on alluring tops. 

Here the beat turned against them, progressing faster and faster still. An exotic and foreign rhapsody that instilled such passion in her body. She swung her head back and forth, ringing in the steps with her whole being. It had taken so long to get to this point, so long for things to heal… So long…so…

No. Now was not the time for such thoughts, now was the time to be present…to feel as much as she could and for as much time as she was allowed. The ebony haired beauty on her left passed by, the red-head on the right swung out her arms and Emily clasped onto one in a poetic back-bow. They each let go and swiveled on bare foot to opposite corners of the stage. A pose, a shimmy, a twist of the wrist and then a careful fall to the ground. Arranged so well, perfected with hours of training… Brought to life by their hands…her hands.

This was the Emily's art…hers. Wasn't it? No, it was…it had to be. It could not be anything otherwise, such unyielding magnificence in movement. And yet… what was this pounding that always lingered in her heart? A force that dug so deep, so gratingly. It- it was…

Those emerald eyes twitched as they caught something nearby, a sort of something that was never desired, yet always returned. She rose from her position, maintaining form and wound over to another girl. They each moved about one another silently, a mesmerizing maneuver. But the floor had grown frigid under the swift feet… and the air was becoming cooler by the second. Emily shuddered.

* * *

And that, Ladies and Gentlemen was the preview for the comeback to Descended Demise! I, your humble writer, am back in business after taking such a long hiatus from Emily and friends! You can be sure my writing may have changed a bit, but I can also assure that there will be plenty of bone-chilling moments to come for our dear, three years older Emily as she has grown accustomed to her new life. Due to such a drastic time shift for both myself coming back to this fanfic and Emily's life I will be creating an entirely new story thread. I've yet to decide what it shall be named, but keep an eye open for it within the next week!

To all who've still had me favorite-ed, or this storyline favorite-ed and are going to read once again, my whole thanks. To those of you just reaching this point and anticipating a plunge further still into Pinhead's creations- Hang on tight!

We've only just begun.


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